Father and Sons
by MissScorp
Summary: On November 2, 1983, John Winchester lost his wife, Mary, to some supernatural force. He does his best to raise their boys while learning everything he can about being a hunter. Life isn't easy, and John makes a lot of mistakes, but everything he does is because he loves them, and wants to make sure they can take care of themselves should he lose his private war. *complete*
1. Dreams

_It_ _was_ _a_ _dream_...

...

He watched the three most important people in his life from the doorway of the nursery, a silly grin tugging at his lips, and a lightness in his heart despite the uneasiness dogging him since that morning. Mary leaned over to kiss the forehead of their six-month-old son, Sam, while Dean stroked his baby brother's fingers through the bars of the crib.

It was a picture perfect moment. One John Winchester filed away for when the boys were grown and raising sons of their own. _Wish I could afford a video camera_, he mused as Sam cooed at Dean. _These are the moments parents want to remember forever. _

He started considering buying a video camera after Sammy was born. He wanted to film his boys at this age so he could remind them when they got older about how much they used to like each other. Sammy babbled excitedly whenever he saw Dean. And Dean? Well, his oldest tended to act more like a parent than an older brother.

Not that John minded. Long as his boys were happy and healthy was all that mattered to him. Far as he was concerned, his boys were happy and healthy and being raised by parents who loved them very much. _Two parents_, he amended, the familiar sting of bitterness stealing some of his happiness. He'd never abandon Sam and Dean the way his shithead of a father did him.

No, his boys would have everything he could possibly give them. He looked forward to playing catch in the backyard, building terrible science fair projects, working on the Impala, and passing on what wisdom he possessed so that his boys could make smart life decisions.

He and Mary promised each other that they'd do everything they could to see their boys grow into honest, decent, hardworking men. They wouldn't be raised as hunters. Not like Mary was. _They won't ever know that the monsters under their beds, and in their closets, are real. _

"Hey, Dean," he called as he padded into the room. "Miss me?"

_Because I sure missed you_, he thought as his oldest spun towards him.

"Daddy!" Dean tossed himself into his arms with a smile that brightened the room. "You're home!"

"Yeah, buddy, I'm home."

He bounced the boy in his arms as he glanced at Mary. There was a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes — the same color as their boys' — that gave him a quick, pleasant little jolt. Dean distracted him from his thoughts by hooking him around the neck.

"You missed dinner, Daddy."

"Yeah?" He looked at him. "What we have?"

"Peanut butter and jelly 'cause the meatloaf sploded."

"It sploded, did it?" He shared an amused look with Mary. "And why did it splode?"

"'Cause the oven made it go kaboom."

He chuckled as he walked over to the crib to look down at his youngest son. Sam flayed his arms and kicked his legs, babbling happily, and smiling so big that John thought his lips would get stuck.

"So, you think Sammy's ready to toss around a football in the backyard?"

Dean shook his head. "No, Daddy. He too little."

"Yeah, you're right." He reached down to stroke his fingers over the top of that downy head. "He'll be plenty big enough soon, though."

"You got him?" Mary set a hand on his shoulder and leaned over to kiss Dean's cheek. "Or do you want me to put him to bed?"

John shook his head. "No, I got him."

_This is our special time_, he thought as Dean laid his head on his shoulder. He told Dean stories from his childhood since he was too young to hear about most of the crap he and Mike got into in high school. And Nam? Well, that wasn't something he ever planned to discuss with his boys.

"Alright." She stroked a hand over the back of Dean's head. "Goodnight, Dean."

"Night, Mommy."

Mary smiled before turning to leave the room. John hugged Dean tighter as he looked down at Sam. He couldn't wait for when his youngest was old enough to have special times with. _I'll have to make sure to split time evenly to avoid any jealousy between them_. For now, he'd enjoy what time he did have. It'd be gone too soon. He stroked Sammy's head again.

"Sweet dreams, Sammy."

He then carried Dean to the door, shutting off the lights before he exited.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all, and welcome! I own nothing here save for my own twist on the canon. This collection is meant to explore an area of the show that was left lacking: John Winchester. He was only seen in a handful of episodes but his influence is everywhere. With John returning in the 300th episode of Supernatural, I thought it fitting to explore those unchartered waters.

Tagged to **1x01**, the Pilot episode.

Please, if you like this collection, follow/fav it!


	2. Nightmares

_It_ _quickly_ _became_ _a_ _nightmare_...

...

Sirens howl like a pack of wolves and the swirling lights cast long shadows over the homes lining the block. The sleepy street bustled with activity despite the lateness. Neighbors huddled in groups, talking, and pointing towards the house almost entirely consumed by flames.

Occasionally, they glance at the man seated on the hood of a '67 Impala. A few have sad expressions, but some look at him with more than passingly curious ones. A few border upon accusatory. As if they suspect he set the fire to hide he killed Mary. John pays no attention to any of it. He cradles Sammy against his chest. Dean's tucked up beside him, silent. His boy hasn't spoken a word since asking him what was going on.

Not that John has any idea of what he'd say to any of the questions his son might ask. He doesn't know what happened. Nothing makes sense. All he can is stare at the house that is no longer their family home and wonder why this is happening to them.

A paramedic opens the back of an ambulance. For what, John doesn't know. It's not like there's anything left of Mary to transport to the hospital. Nausea rolls greasily through his belly as he recalls an aroma, much like the smell of rotting eggs filling his nostrils right before the ceiling around Mary burst into flame.

Mary pinned to the ceiling above Sammy's crib, bleeding from her belly, and unable to call out to him for help. Blood, fire, death. Foam rushes into his mouth as he recalls the feel of Mary's blood on the back of his hand. He bears down, swallows the bile back. He saw some gnarly shit in 'Nam. Nothing like this, though. He can explain what happened in 'Nam. _I don't have a goddamn clue about what the hell happened to Mary_.

Dean trembles against him. He shifts Sammy so he can wrap an arm around him, trying to impart some warmth into him. It wasn't easy considering he felt as if he's trapped in a block of ice.

"I gotcha." John rubs his side, trying to comfort him the best he can, but knowing nothing he does will ever undo this trauma or take away his son's pain. "I gotcha, Dean."

"Stay back, everyone." An officer orders as he waves the crowd of gawkers back. "Y'all gotta stay back so the firefighters can work on putting out the fire."

John can feel eyes on him again but doesn't bother to acknowledge them. He's too busy watching the firefighters work to put out the fire swallowing up his house. _What the hell happened_? One moment he's asleep in his armchair as an old war movie plays on the TV, and the next he's scooping Sam and Dean up in his arms, and racing across the lawn he mowed last weekend.

How did Mary get pinned to the ceiling of the nursery? What caused the fire? And most importantly, who slashed open his wife's belly, and why? He doesn't have any answers. He doesn't have anything save for his boys and the '67 Impala they sat on.

_How did everything fall to shit_? he asks himself as Sammy whimpers. They were a normal family less than twenty-hours ago. They did what all the other families on this block did. Went shopping for groceries, took Sammy for a checkup, and got Dean some new sneakers. Even today wasn't all that unusual. He went to the shop, Mary took the boys to the park, and she made PB&J sandwiches for dinner since the meatloaf 'sploded in the oven.

Things changed in the blink of an eye. A part of him is too numb from shock to process more than the basics. Another part of him burns with a rage he has never felt before. The emotions swirling inside him threaten to consume him. Any second he expects to explode from everything churning around inside him. He swallows it all, buries it down deep, and focuses on his boys. They need him. He's all they have.

And they were all he has, too.

John vows in that moment to not lose them. Not like he lost Mary. He looks again at the burning house. _I'm gonna figure out what happened to you_, he promises as more firefighters arrived to combat the flames. _I'm gonna find whoever or whatever is responsible for tearing our family apart. _

And when he does?

He's gonna kill 'em.

* * *

**A**/**N**: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

This is tagged to **1x01**, the Pilot.


	3. Moving On

Picking up the pieces after someone passes away wasn't as easy as people liked to think. John tried but some days were harder than others. His boys were the only thing that kept him from crawling all the way inside a bottle of whatever he could get his hands on and never come out. The only question that kept going through his mind was: _what the hell happened_? 

They brought Sammy home from the hospital a little over six months ago. Stood over Dean after getting him his big boy bed. Talked about expanding the shop, Dean starting kindergarten, even discussing how it'd be nice if the next baby was a girl. 

Those dreams ended with one massive fireball. 

Now, he wanted to know _how, what, _and_why_. How did Mary get up on that ceiling? Why was she cut across her stomach? What started that fire? More, he wanted to know _who_. Who was the man he glimpsed in the corner of the nursery?

Who, what, why, and how? Those were the things he needed answers for. The cops certainly hadn't given him any. Mike and Kate didn't have any. And Mary's family? Well, their thoughts and opinions about what happened weren't things he wanted to hear. 

_Maybe I'm crazy,_ he thought as he waited for Missouri to return with the number to a man she claimed could help him find the answers he was after. _Maybe there aren't any answers_. _Maybe what happened is just one of those occurrences that can't be explained. _

His mind rejected that thought. He clearly remembered what happened that night. Mary screamed, he raced into the nursery, Sammy gurgled quietly in his crib, blood dripped on the back of his hand, Mary on the ceiling, the fire. 

He recalled all of it.

He scooped up Sammy and raced from the room. Dean was in the hall, blinking sleepy eyes, and completely oblivious to the danger mere inches from him. John desperately wanted to pick him up and run from the house, but he needed to try to save Mary.

What man wouldn't attempt to rescue his wife? _Only a lousy one_, he thought as he ran a hand over his face. While he far from the greatest husband, and couldn't say he was the best of men, there was no damn way he was leaving that house without trying to get Mary out. 

The only problem was there was no other adult there to get Sam and Dean to safety. Hating himself for what he was about to do, calling himself the worst father in the world for doing it, he handed Sammy to him, telling him, "Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back!"

Dean stood there, cradling Sammy in his arms, and blinking wide, fearful eyes at him. He desperately wanted to reassure him, but he had no time. He simply hardened his voice and snapped, "Now, Dean, go!" 

Dean did as ordered.

Seeing him race down the hall made his guilt triple. Not only had he failed to protect Mary, but he now placed a mountain of responsibility on the shoulders of his four-year-old son. What kind of father did that? 

_Not a very good one. _

Dean hadn't left his or Sammy's side for the last few weeks. That didn't bother him all that much. Letting either boy out of his sight scared him shitless. His greatest fear was he'd lose them if he wasn't there to keep watch. 

"Here you are," Missouri said as she walked back into the room. "You just give Fletcher a call." 

"Will he talk to me?" John took the paper she held out to him. "Or will he think I'm crazy like everyone else?" 

"You aren't crazy, honey." Her voice was soft but firm. "Something dark got into your house. It killed your wife." She tapped the paper with one finger. "You call Fletcher. Tell him I gave you his number. He will fix you up right." 

"You're sure he can help me find the answers I'm after?"

"If anybody can help you figure out what came into your house?" She tapped the paper again. "It's Fletcher Gable." 

John tucked the paper into a pocket and stood. 

"Thanks, Missouri."

"You go on home now to them boys," she ordered, not unkindly. "Keep them close. Don't let them out of your sight. You gotta protect them from the dark thing that killed their mother. You understand me?" 

"Yeah." He didn't have to tell her he wasn't going to lose his boys. Not like he lost their mother. "Yeah, I understand."

* * *

**A/N:** Hi, all! Hope this finds you well!

I want to thank everyone following and who favorited this story. I know it's a bit of a break from the norm… but that's the fun, right? ;)

Tagged to episode **1x01**


	4. Failures

He fired the gun, the sharp report louder than the music coming from inside the building behind him. The shapeshifter — as Bill called it — went down without making a sound. John let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and lowered his arm.

"Good shot." Bill came around the back of the Impala to stand beside him. "Can't believe the son of a bitch had the balls to come to a place where hunters are known to gather."

"Seemed like he thought he could get away with it."

"Well, Paul Elegy was always an arrogant shit." Bill heaved a sigh. "Always figured he'd end up dead sooner or later."

John went to reply but froze when he heard, "Daddy?"

No, played through his mind over and over. No, don't let him see what I've done. A dull roaring filled his ears as he turned. He felt sick. His son was staring at the large red stain blossoming across the concrete with a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

His fingers trembled on the gun. His heart froze in his chest. Why aren't you inside the roadhouse with Ellen or her niece? Beside him, Bill sword a blue streak. He looked at him, saw he was gazing at Dean with a mixture of horror and guilt on his craggy face. John could well imagine he was thinking about how he'd feel if his daughter, Jo walked out right as he put a bullet in a shapeshifter, werewolf or ghoul.

"Dean..." he managed around the lump in his throat. "What're you doing out here, son?"

"Why'd you shoot him, Daddy?"

Having his son ask that question hurt him a helluva lot more than the nastiest of hangovers ever could. How the hell was he even supposed to answer something like that? His son wasn't old enough to understand that monsters were real. To Dean, monsters were what the Scooby gang dealt with.

"He was a bad man, Dean," he said lamely. "He hurt a lot of people."

The excuse worked to soothe his four-year-old. John knew it'd take a helluva lot longer for it to work on him.

* * *

**A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	5. First Words

John expected Sammy to say his first word anytime. His incoherent babbling started carrying hints of real syllables while they were staying at the roadhouse. He hoped like anything his first word would be _dada_. Same as Dean's had been when he was Sammy's age.

Bill joked it'd likely be something like "damn" or "hell."

John dreaded it being something like "shit."

Instead, his youngest son cheerfully, proudly, and thankfully said, "Dean," while smiling at his wide-eyed brother.

He'd be a liar if he didn't admit he wasn't a tad disappointed. All parents wanted _mama_ or _dada_ as their kid's first word. However, given how much Dean took care of his brother, especially of late, it seemed fitting that his name be his first word.

"Sammy said my name!" Dean exclaimed with awe and delight. "He said my name, Daddy!"

"Yeah, he did, buddy." John pulled him into his lap and smiled down at Sammy, who laughed and clapped. "Yeah, he did."

And he couldn't be a damn bit prouder.

* * *

**A/N:** Hi, all! Hope this finds you well!


	6. Run, don't walk

What should have been an easy salt-and-dust turned into the fight for his life. What the hell went wrong, John didn't know. One minute, he was setting fire to the remains of Jameson McGrath. Well, what he thought were his remains, anyway. Bouncing off the basement wall as if he was a damn basketball convinced him how wrong about that he was. Pretty obvious Casper wasn't a friendly ghost after that.

And that he had a black belt in paranormal Kung-Fu.

It took him a good twenty minutes, and he received a helluva beating in the process, but he finally found a box containing a lock of McGrath's hair. He set it on fire before collapsing on the basement floor, panting, sweating, and seeing stars. Damn but everything hurt. Even his hair.

And that was a whole new kinda bullshit there.

Finally, after much grumbling and enough swearing to make a sailor blush, he pulled himself up and stumbled out to the Impala. How he didn't cause an accident on the drive back was beyond him. He credited it to knowing his boys were waiting back at the roadhouse for him. He pulled into a stall and cut the engine. He didn't immediately climb out and head inside because he needed the time to gather the necessary strength and energy to make it the short distance to the door. _Can't_ _have_ _what_ _happened_ _last_ _time_.

Having his five-year-old take care of him because he got careless hurt him a lot worse than them cracked ribs and smattering of cuts and bruises. _Not_ _up_ _to_ _Dean_ _to_ _take_ _care_ _of_ _his_ _old_ _man_, he thought, belly cramping, heart aching, and soul shriveling up just a bit more. _I'm_ _supposed_ _to_ _be_ _the_ _one_ _taking_ _care_ _of_ _him_ _and_ _Sammy_.

None of them expected life to turn out this way, though. _I'm_ _doing_ _my_ _best_, _Mary_. _I_ _hope_ _you_ _know_ _that_. Even if his best wasn't good enough. He pushed open the car door with a sigh and stepped out into the abrasive night air. Every step sent agony shooting through his body. _Can_ _imagine_ _Ellen_ _is_ _gonna_ _read_ _me_ _a_ _riot_ _act_ _when_ _she_ _sees_ _me_.

Part of him felt like he was back in boot camp. His body throbbed in much the same way after a long day of maneuvers. Shit hurt a helluva lot worse after his company got deployed. Hunting reminded him of 'Nam. One wrong move and he could have his ass torn apart. Only, instead of a bullet or land mine tearing him open, it was a set of razor-sharp teeth or claws. He shook off his dark thoughts as he opened the door and stepped inside. The sight that greeted him sucked the air from his lungs. His pain and exhaustion evaporated as his youngest boy took one slow step.

Then another.

Until with the confidence of a lion he ran the remaining steps separating him from Dean.

"You did it, Sammy!" Dean crowed as he caught his brother in his arms. "You did it!"

_Yeah_, _buddy_, _he_ _did_ _it_, John thought as he quietly shut the door. _Because_ _he_ _had_ _you_ _there_ _to_ _catch_ _him_ _if_ _he_ _should fall_.

And that, John fully believed, was never gonna change.

* * *

**A**/**N**: Hi, all! Hope this finds you well!

**S**/**N**: Thanks to Katy for reminding me that Sam started walking around a year. John has it listed as May 17 in his journal as when Sam took his first steps. So this is around mid-May of 1984 and after that point.


	7. First Lessons

Some would call him a paranoid cynic. Hell, he freely admitted he was. After what happened to Mary, after everything that happened since he became a hunter, he felt justified in his paranoia.

He learned from Fletcher, H, Bill, Jim, and Daniel that there were things, not normal things, and definitely not nice things, in this world. One of those things took Mary. He was damn sure not gonna let whatever it was take his boys, too. _Even if she looks like that Granny from Looney Toons_.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Why you starin' at that lady?"

What was he supposed to tell his boy? That he suspected the little old lady sitting at a table wasn't just some kind, warm, grandmother watching her grandkids play?

How well could a five-year-old understand the concept of monsters? He still asked him about why he killed that shape-shifter. Not that he explained that that was what the thing was.

_Maybe I should_, he thought as he watched the gray-haired woman in his rear view mirror. _Maybe now is a good time to start teaching Dean there are things out there that go bump in the night._

The side of him that was Dean's father rebelled at the idea. He was supposed to foster and nurture his son's innocence for chrissakes! However, the other side of him, the hunter, told him that the sooner he started teaching him, the better. _I have to make sure he's strong enough to look after Sammy. I have to prepare him for anything that could happen while I'm away on a hunt_.

"Dean, there are bad things in this world." He picked each word carefully, choosing what he felt a five-year-old could understand. "Bad people. Monsters."

"Like on Scooby-Doo?"

Despite his apprehension and concern, he couldn't help but smile. Everything was either Scooby-Doo or Batman with Dean.

"These monsters aren't like those monsters, kiddo."

"They're not?" A frown feathered Dean's brow. "Why not?"

"Those monsters are make believe," he explained as he started the car and backed out of the stall. "They can't hurt you."

_Not like real monsters can hurt you_. He checked the rearview mirror and saw the old lady climbing into a tan sedan. _Don't think so, Granny_, he thought as he tore ass out of the parking lot. _Nobody is hurting my boys. Not while I'm around. _

Because he's more than a husband and father looking for revenge. He was also a hunter who swore to kill every ghoul, ghost, demon or whatever he came across. _And I will kill you if you come near them_, he vowed as he hit the interstate.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	8. Homeschooling

John decided that if he wasn't gonna enroll Dean in school — as he damn well should, but couldn't bring himself to do — than the least he could do was make sure he wasn't behind other kids developmentally. He bought flash cards, as well as some other educational toys, and set aside a little time each day to work with him, sounding out letters, counting numbers, and identifying basic things like colors and shapes.

Of course, Dean learning how to sound out letters, count, and identify colors and shapes meant his little brother had to learn how to, as well. Sammy wasn't able to sound out all the letters, numbers or identify the colors and shapes, not yet, anyway, but that didn't stop Dean from spending hours showing him the flash cards and asking him what they were.

John had a feeling Sammy would turn out the smartest of them all.

And that was just fine with him.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I want to take a moment and thank Katy and Sharzdah for their lovely reviews! The support is deeply appreciated. Thank you both so much!


	9. Good Fathers

Anyone who thought parenting was a walk in the park needed their head examined. 'Nam had been easier than raising two boys on his own. He questioned every one of his decisions, second-guessed every last choice he made, and never felt he did right by them.

Most days ended with him seated at a table with a bottle of whatever on his right, books on the left, and his head between his hands.

He wholeheartedly admitted he didn't have any idea about what made a man a good father. His own father up and left when he was four. He never met his paternal grandfather. His dad told him he died in a fire right after he and his mom got married.

Gramps — as he called his mother's father — did his best to teach him all he needed to know about being a man, but he never explained what made a man a good father. He didn't have any uncles to ask those questions of or to model his own behavior after.

He was full-grown by the time his mom remarried. He didn't have any need for a father at that point. Not that he could claim his step-dad was much of one. He tried, though. That's about all he could say. He tried his damndest. That had to count for something, right?

A dark, humorless chuckle escaped him. Yeah, it was a buncha bullshit, and he knew it.

"Dad?"

The concern in Dean's voice broke through his cloud of self-loathing and bitterness. John lifted his head to find him hovering by his left leg. Worry furrowed his brow and darkened his eyes. _Mary's eyes_, he thought as he sat back in his chair.

"Yeah, Dean?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." He set a hand gently on Dean's shoulder. "Just tired is all."

He didn't tell Dean the truth. That he wanted Mary back. To his way of thinking, a good father didn't burden his six-year-old with his problems.

But then he wasn't a good father, was he?

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	10. Sammy

"I wanna go!" Sammy whined from the backseat. "Please, Daddy? I wanna go with Dean!"

"You can't go with Dean," John said with as much patience as his hangover would allow. "You're too little."

"But..." John saw his lower lip quiver in the rearview mirror. "I smart."

"Yes, you are," he agreed, lips cooking upwards into a smile. "You're very smart."

_So smart_, he realized as Sam sniffled, _that he can almost say his ABC's, count to ten, and recognize certain shapes and colors_. Dean spent hours working with his brother so it was little wonder why he knew so much.

"I go to school?"

The hope in his voice brought a genuine smile to his face. How different his boys were. Dean showed more interest in guns and hunting than he did his schoolwork. Something he suspected wouldn't happen with Sammy. Maybe he was still too young, but he didn't think Sammy had the same killer instinct his brother had.

"Maybe you can go to school next year," he said as he started the Impala. "Alright, sport?"

"Okay, Daddy."

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I'd like to thank Katy, Kathy and Sharzdah for their support and kind words. They're much appreciated!


	11. Sick

John stalked through the empty hallways, worry twisting in his gut, and guilt pounding in his heart. Neither meshed well with the drum solo going on in his head. Fear, exhaustion, and too much whiskey made him more than a little irritable.

_Sick_, was what the waspish woman told him after he managed to rouse himself enough to answer the phone. When he questioned her about what sort of sick he was, she snapped at him to come pick his son up.

"_Let his mother figure out what sort of sick he is_," she snapped in a cold, crisp voice. "_It's not my job. I'm not a pediatrician_."

As if his boy had a mother to figure out that sort of shit. He didn't get a chance to tell the woman that, though. She hung up on him right after that final parting shot. _She's gonna get a damn earful when I find her._

He stalked to the office door and yanked it open with enough force to suck papers off the front counter. The woman at the counter, a pretty blonde with warm brown eyes, glanced at the papers and then at him.

"Good morning." A smile played about her mouth. "Are you Dean's father?"

John swallowed his temper along with the litany of not nice things he planned to say to the shrew who called him long enough to confirm who he was.

"Yeah, I'm his father."

"I'm his teacher, Mrs. Courtney."

"Some lady on the phone said something about Dean being sick?"

"Yes." She came around the counter and bent to pick up the papers that littered the floor. "He wasn't acting right at recess. When I asked him what was wrong he said his tummy hurt and that he felt... well..." She lifted sparkling eyes to his. "Let's just say he didn't say crappy and leave it at that."

Guilt mixed with the nausea already rolling greasily through his belly. He shoved it down as he forced his alcohol-soaked, and sleep-deprived brain to work. Had Dean eaten breakfast that morning? A frown furrowed his brow. He couldn't remember. The last thing he recalled with any real clarity was dropping Dean off at school before driving over to check Sammy into the daycare center he got him into.

"I'll talk with him about not using foul language," he promised as he crouched to help collect the rest of the papers. "Where is he?"

"He's laying down in the nurses office." She set the papers on the counter and indicated for him to come with her. "Come on, I'll walk you over."

John trailed after her, feeling like a complete asshole, and a total failure as a father. Mary'd have known soon as she saw him this morning that something wasn't right with him.

Mary wasn't there, though.

She'd never be there. Not to kiss away another of Dean's fevers, put a Scooby-Doo band-aid on a scrapped knee or elbow or comfort him after he had a nightmare. She'd never again bring him applesauce and toast or make him tomato-rice soup.

All Dean had was him.

An emotionally wrecked, hungover, piss-poor excuse for a father.

His boy deserved better than that.

He needed more than that.

John just didn't know how to give it to him.

And he hated himself for it.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I want to send a special thank you again to Kathy, the guest, and umbrella0326 for their lovely reviews! Your support is greatly and deeply appreciated!


	12. The Pox

The spots appeared two days later. Soon as John saw them, he knew exactly what his son had. Part of him wanted to call up the school and tell Mrs. Wasp what his boy had. He banked the urge. Getting Dean and himself through this with both their sanity and tempers intact was all that mattered. He had hoped that things like the chicken pox, measles, and the mumps would wait until his boys were older before striking.

As if he'd be so lucky.

"Should I take him to the doctor?" He ran a hand over his face and debated pouring the rest of the whiskey in his coffee. "Isn't there something they can give him?"

"The only things they'd give him are the same things I'm giving you," Ellen said as she handed him a brown bag. "If the sores get infected, his fever keeps climbing or he complains he can't breathe are really the only time you'd take him to the doctor."

"Are you sure?"

"John, quit your worryin'." A small smile curved her lips. "It's good for kids to get chickenpox young."

"What about Sammy, though?" He glanced over to where Sam sat coloring and watching cartoons. "Isn't he too young to get chickenpox?"

"He's at just the age when most kids do get it," she replied. "Hell, most parents prefer their kids getting chicken pox at the same time."

"Why?"

"Get's it done and over with."

John didn't think he could handle Sammy coming down with the chickenpox. Dean was enough of a challenge. His oldest definitely took after him. He couldn't deny it. Not when his son was aiming his foul-temper and foul-mouth at him. _No greater feeling in the world than your kid aiming your less than stellar qualities at you_, he thought as Sammy giggled at something on the television.

"Would keeping Sammy away from Dean keep him from getting sick?"

"He's already been exposed at this point."

That's what he was afraid of. John set the bag on the table.

"So, Tylenol for the fever and calamine lotion for the itching?"

"Apply the calamine lotion after giving him a lukewarm bath." She reached into the bag and brought out a bottle she handed to him. "Put some of this in the water. It'll help with the itching."

"What is it?"

"An oatmeal based bath treatment." She turned to head for the door. "And make sure to pat Dean dry. Oh, and don't let him scratch. It'll infect the sores."

"Thanks, Ellen," he said as he followed her. "I really appreciate all you've done for me and the boys."

"I think of them boys like family, John." She glanced again at Sammy who continued to watch cartoons. "I'll do anything I can to help them." She looked at him. "And you."

John had a feeling she'd end up regretting helping them one day.

* * *

**A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	13. Lessons Learned

"Look, John," the old hunter said. "You gotta stop bustin' your balls over what happened to Bill."

"Do I?" John blinked blurry eyes. Ran his tongue over dry lips. What he wouldn't give for a nice, tall, cold glass of beer. Or a shot of tequila, whiskey, scotch. Hell, it didn't matter what the bartender poured so long as it was good and strong. "And why's that? Huh?"

"'Cause you didn't mean for him to die."

John stared into that leathery face. Saw the lines of wisdom underneath the scars of understanding. If there was anyone in the world who could understand how he felt at that moment, it was Jonah Smith. Jonah wasn't just a hunter from the fifties, though. He was a veteran of WWII. He had seen and done shit John couldn't even begin to imagine. 'Nam was bad but those death camps?

Well, that was just a whole new type of bullshit.

Jonah knew more about hunting than anyone he encountered thus far. Soon as he told him it was a Devil's Gate, he leaned back in his chair and nodded his head. Nothing more needed said. Jonah might not have known what exactly came out of that opening, but he had a good enough idea.

What he didn't tell him was how his mind was on his boys back at the roadhouse. He wasn't paying attention to where his feet were and scuffed the ring of salt he laid across the entrance. When whatever — demon, hellspawn — came shooting out of that tunnel, nothing was there to stop it. _My fault_, he thought over and over as his belly cramped. _It's all my fault. _

"A husband and father is dead because I made a mistake," he rasped. "I got him killed because I was careless and stupid."

Jonah didn't reply.

Not that John expected him too.

* * *

**A/N**: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I just wanted to send a special thank you to Kathy and Sharzdah for their lovely reviews!


	14. Sammy, problem solver

The park was empty. Not a surprise since it was barely nine o'clock in the morning. Most kids were in school at this time. John preferred it when parks were empty. Sammy could bury his army men in the sand or climb all over the jungle gym while he drank his coffee without having to watch all the mothers with their children.

November made it three years since Mary's death. He wasn't any closer to figuring out what happened to her or why. _She oughta be sitting here, not me_. His fingers curled around the styrofoam coffee cup. _She oughta be the one stopping Sammy from hunting for bugs. Pushing him on the swings. Going to pickup Dean from school._

Sammy didn't understand he had a mother. How could he? He was six months old when she died. He didn't have any memories of Mary. Not like Dean did. He missed out on all those special moments his brother got to have with Mary. The PB&J for dinner because the oven 'sploded. The warm apple pies just because. The hugs and the kisses goodnight.

The styrofoam split and warm coffee leaked over his fingers. John stifled a curse and tossed the cup into a trash can next to the bench he sat on. He pulled a napkin from the bag their breakfast came in and wiped the coffee from his fingers.

"Daddy?"

He glanced at Sam. "Yeah, Sammy?"

"Can we get a puppy?"

John couldn't stop the wistful smile that curved his lips. Kid's his age wanted puppies or new bikes for Christmas. Course, those kids had a home for those sorts of things. They weren't living in a dingy motel since staying at the Roadhouse was no longer an option. _Because I screwed up. _

"No," he told him as he swallowed his guilt. "I'm afraid we can't."

"Why?" His lower lip jutted out and quivered just enough to make John feel slimier than mud. "Why can't we get a puppy?"

"The motel doesn't allow puppies."

Sam's expression fell. John felt like an utter asshole. All his boy wanted was what any boy his age wanted. _And I can't give it to him_. However, his youngest surprised him when his face brightened a second later.

"Can we get a lizard?"

John couldn't help but chuckle. Leave it to his youngest to figure out a possible solution to a perceived problem.

"We'll see," was all he said.

For Sammy, it was enough.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I want to again thank Sharzdah and Kathy for their reviews! Your support and kind words are greatly appreciated!


	15. Harpies

He loathed the woman with a passion. She rode his ass about every damn thing. First, it was Dean getting the chicken pox. Next it was because he wore a t-shirt _she deemed_ inappropriate. Now she was busting his balls about Dean not turning in a book report up to her overly — in his mind — high standards.

"He needs to go into special ed."

John felt the thin strands of what little patience he managed to have around this woman slowly start to unravel. Who the hell did this woman think she was? God? How dare she sit there and tell him Dean needed to go into special ed just because he wasn't living up to her expectations.

_She's the one who needs to take special classes_. Especially in things like compassion, empathy, and decency. Why Dean got transferred into her class when he was doing fine in Mrs. Courtney's never made an ounce of sense to him. He suspected she was bullying Dean 'cause she didn't like him. John took a moment to collect himself. Otherwise, he might end up getting arrested for killing her.

"What reason can you give me for why you think Dean needs to go into special ed?"

"The boy is seriously challenged."

John knew exactly what she meant by _challenged_. Raw indignation and outrage shot through him. What he wouldn't give to unload on the harpy. He settled for saying something nice and simple, instead.

"Bull."

She pushed her glasses higher up on her beak of a nose and stared at John as if she considered him as much of a simpleton as she did Dean.

"He cannot read..."

"He reads to his brother just fine."

_He also scours newspapers and magazines for articles on things you don't know a damn thing about_. He didn't tell her that. It skirted a line he couldn't let himself get near. Hinted at a truth a woman like this wouldn't be able to handle. _She'd turn my ass into child services for sure if she found out I was a hunter_.

"He barely can solve the basic addition and subtraction problems I write on the blackboard."

John curled his hands around the arms of the chair to keep from wrapping them around her skinny throat.

"Dean's doing multiplication and division problems in the math workbook I bought him." His eyes narrowed. "And he was doing fine when he was in Mrs. Courtney's class."

"Mr. Winchester..."

"Look, lady." He barley managed to keep his tone civil. "I don't know what you've got against Dean, but it's clear you've got a problem with him."

"He doesn't listen to anything that I tell him."

"Yeah? Well, maybe that's 'cause he knows you don't like him."

She issued a soft harrumph that grated on his remaining nerves.

"I am not here to be liked."

"And he's not going into special education." He pushed to his feet. "Are we clear on that?"

"Crystal."

"Good."

He turned and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him with enough force to crack the glass.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I want to thank Kathy, Sharzdah, and umbrella0326 for their wonderful reviews!


	16. Just Like Me

John watched Dean through the split in the ratty curtains covering the window. There wasn't any hesitation on Dean's part as he read to Sammy. He didn't stutter. He didn't stumble over any of the words. He read to his brother in a clear, strong voice.

"Dean is seriously challenged."

Rage pulsed beneath his skin as those words came back to taunthim. What right did that harpy have to call Dean seriously challenged? There wasn't a damn thing wrong with his boy. Well,he amended as he pulled the hotel key from his pocket. There's nothing wrong with him in the intelligence department.

He wasn't a complete dumb ass, though. He knew Dean had problems. He just didn't know how to fix them. He unlocked the hotel door and went inside.

"Daddy!" Sammy bounced off the bed and raced over to clamp himself to one of his legs. "You're back!"

"Yeah, Sammy, I am."

He ruffled his hair and looked at Dean. His expression was closed up tighter than an oil drum. It didn't take many guesses about why. Guilt mixed with the anger burning in his belly. His temper often got the better of him. Made him say shit he didn't mean. Many of the fights between him and Mary happened because he popped off at the mouth before his brain had a chance to process the situation.

He knew he came down hard on Dean for things. Criticized him for the smallest of mistakes. Much of that was his fault. He drilled into Dean the night Mary died that Sammy was his responsibility. Something Dean took to heart. _I didn't have any right to do that to him_, he thought he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. _But what else can I do? There isn't anyone else I trust with Sammy's life._

"You two eat dinner?"

"No." Dean hunched his shoulders. A defensive posture. "We waited for you to get back."

_He's been waiting for me to bust his ass for not doing what that harpy tells him_, John realized with a pang. Resolving that would have to wait until later. _Once Sammy is asleep_, he decided, bending to pick him up. For now, he asked, "What do you boys want to get?"

"Pizza?" Sammy asked, his expression one of hope. "Pease?"

"Sure." He looked again at Dean. "Pizza okay?"

"Yeah."

_Guess the talk can't wait_, he thought as he set Sammy on the bed before turning to grab the pile of ads and coupons on the nightstand.

"Wanna talk 'bout what's bugging you?"

"No."

_Kid's got my stubbornness down to a science_, he realized with a grimace. _Mary'd tell me it's what I deserve_.

"Alright, well, wanna tell me why you're not reading in class? Or doing the other assignments you're asked to do?"

Dean didn't immediately answer. John was about to repeat his question, firmer this time, when he lowered his head, and mumbled a reply.

"Mrs. Crenshaw don't like me." Hot color stained his cheeks. "She calls me stupid in front of the class. Always tells me I'm no good. That I'll never amount to nothin'."

Fresh rage surged inside John. The only thing that kept him from storming back out to the car and driving over to the school was Sammy glued to his leg. He vowed that first thing in the morning he and Mrs. Crenshaw would have another talk.

He had no idea they'd be a state away before morning.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! I hope this finds you well!

I'd like to thank Kathy, Sharzdah, umbrella0326, and PriWinchester for their lovely reviews! Your support is greatly appreciated!


	17. A ghoulish discovery

Ellen's message was short and to the point: get the hell outta there. John didn't stop to question what that meant. He simply told Dean to pack up their stuff and got them the hell outta town. Sammy didn't understand what was going on but helped Dean get his few toys and things into a suitcase without making too much of a fuss.

Not knowing what he was running from made deciding on where to go difficult. The only place he could think of that might be safe was Elkins' place. He didn't stop until he reached Colorado. Daniel was standing on his porch when John pulled up. That he didn't look surprised to see them too John that whatever was going on, he knew about it.

"Why don't you boys go and play?" John suggested as he stepped from the car and nodded to Daniel. "Daniel and I need to talk."

He didn't have to tell Sammy twice. He hollered and whooped as he tore off towards the trees. Dean followed after his brother at a more sedate pace. John watched him sweep the perimeter, body taut and alert, just the way he showed him.

As proud as it made him to see Dean using the things he taught him, a part of him also died over him having to use it. _He should be a normal kid_, John thought as he joined Daniel on the porch. _He should be running around and hollering at the top of his lungs. Or digging in the dirt with his bare hands for worms or other bugs like Sammy._

"That boy is sure on pins and needles." Daniel indicated for him to follow him inside the house. "Got a pretty damn good reason to be, honestly."

John's eyebrows forked as he followed Daniel into the kitchen.

"Why?" he asked. "What's going on?"

"Haven't you heard?"

"Heard about what?"

"A hunter by the name of Singer dropped in at the roadhouse a few days ago." Daniel grabbed two mugs from the counter and filled them with coffee. He passed one to John. "Did a job up around where you were living with the boys."

"Yeah?" John accepted the mug with a nod. "What was the job?"

"Seems like some people had gone missing." Daniel poured milk into his mug. "Singer thought it was the work of a shapeshifter or a rugaru."

John swallowed a mouthful of the coffee as he digested that information. None of it sounded out of the ordinary. Just a regular hunt. It didn't explain why Ellen sent him that note.

"What's this got to do with me and the boys?"

"Well." Daniel leaned against the counter, mug in hand. "Seems like it might have been something else killing these folk."

"What?"

"A ghoul."

"A ghoul?" John set his mug down. "Are you sure?"

"Well, you tell me." Daniel picked up a newspaper tossed on one corner of the counter and handed it to him. "You recognize the woman in that picture?"

The blood drained from John's face as he stared at the paper. The woman who smiled back at him was the same one that he wanted to throttle less than sixteen hours ago.

"That's Dean's teacher," he finally managed to croak. "Mrs. Crenshaw."

* * *

**A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I'd like to thank Kathy, Sharzdah, and umbrella0326 for their lovely reviews! Your support is greatly appreciated!


	18. Late night phone calls

The cold slapped at him as he listened to the phone ring. _C'mon, Singer_, he grumbled silently as snow swirled around his boots. _Pick up the damn phone_. He knew Bobby was home because he told him earlier that if he ran into trouble at the Mulgrady Mansion to give him a call. It took another ring before he heard a click followed by an annoyed growl.

"_Whoever you are,you better be dying._"

"Bobby?"

"_Who else you think gonna be answering my phone at this hour? Sammy Davis Jr.?_"

Could always count on Singer to not mince words. If not for the cold and the kids waiting for him to get back to them, John might have chuckled, and shot something equally sarcastic back at him.

"Look," he said instead, "I know it's late..."

"_But_?"

"Something went wrong tonight, Bobby." Understatement of the year,he decided. "Things at the Mulgrady Mansion didn't go as we discussed."

"_What happened_?"

"The last victim was gonna be a kid. A girl. Same age as Dean."

_A pretty little angel with dark hair and these big gray eyes that punch you in the gut when she turns them on you_, he added as a burst of wind snaked underneath the scarf wrapped around his neck and chilled its way down his spine. Mary talked about wanting a little girl after having Sammy. John joked about waiting until Sam was walking and talking before they thought about having another.

_It'd be nice having a little girl, though_, he realized as ice particles slapped at his face. Help balance out things. Keep him and the boys from becoming completely uncivilized. It wasn't meant to happen, though. Whatever came into their house and killed Mary took that dream from them along with everything else.

"_A kid? Aw, hell..._" Bobby sighed. "_Did you_?"

"She's fine," he quickly assured him. "I got to her before she could walk into the water." John stared across the dark parking when a low, bone-chilling howl pierced the silence. Anxiety popped in his gut. He needed to get back to them. Sooner rather than later. "I think there's something after her, Bobby."

"_Like what_?"

"I don't know." Frustration pulsed beneath his skin. "I just know I saw a strange man at Mulgrady Mansion."

He didn't add anything about the howl. It was possible it was just a wolf or coyote calling to its pack. Something told him it wasn't. That it was exactly what he feared it was.

"_How strange we talkin'?_"

"Yellow-eyes strange."

"_You thinkin' some sorta demon_?"

"I don't know, maybe." The howl sounded again, closer this time. "All I know is I saw that man at Mulgrady Mansion and then again at the gas station we stopped at."

"_Sounds like whatever it is, it's following you_." Bobby was quiet for a moment. "_Where you headed_?"

"At the moment, nowhere. The Impala broke down thirty miles outside of Rochester, Minnesota. I barely managed to limp her into the first rest area." He hunched his shoulders. "I hate to ask, but think you can give us a tow to your yard?"

Bobby was quiet for a moment.

"_Gimme an hour_," he said. "_I'll be there_."

* * *

**A/N**: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

This piece is based around my Winchester Christmas story for the curious. I kept that story strictly in Dean's POV as it was his memory of the events so I'm now exploring a bit of it from John's.

I want to express deep thanks to Kathy, umbrella0326, and Sharzdah for their support and lovely reviews! They definitely are appreciated!


	19. Hellhounds

A switch flipped on soon as the smell of brimstone hit his nostrils. Whatever son of a bitch was coming would have to go through him to get to the kids waiting for him in the car a few steps away. Another howl sounded, closer this time, and longer in duration. He hurried over and rapped on the glass of the Impala with his knuckles.

"Unlock the door, Dean," he ordered, eyes scanning left and right, and hand near the pocket where he stashed a gun before going to call Bobby. "Hurry up."

"Dad!" A thin note of urgency coated Dean's voice and burned in his eyes as he reached over the seat to pull up the lock. "Do you hear that?"

"Yeah, I hear it, Dean." He slid behind the wheel and slammed the car door before more ice and snow could blow inside. "Heard it while I was on the phone with Bobby."

"What is it?"

John hesitated for half a second. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell Dean what the thing out there was. He just didn't want to spook Sammy or the girl gazing at him with eyes far too old for one so young. He swore to teach his boys about what was out there, though. No better time than the present, he decided as a second howl joined the first.

"They're called Black Schucks."

Hellhounds, devil dogs, same damn thing,he amended silently. Fido with sharp ass teeth and even sharper nails.

"Black Shucks?" A frown feathered Dean's brow. "What're those?"

"They lore calls them omens of death," John replied as he scanned the darkness for sign of either the damn things. "Some say they guard the entrances of the dead."

"Like cemeteries and stuff?"

John glanced at Dean in the rearview mirror. He could see the curiosity on his face despite his fear. _He's gonna make a damn good hunter one day_, he realized with a small kernel of pride. _He already has the instincts for it_. His gaze shifted over to where Sammy slept against Aydan, oblivious to the danger outside.

If he'd follow in his brother's footsteps remained shrouded in doubt. Sammy was different from Dean. Quiet, watchful. _A problem-solver_, he decided as another howl sounded. His boys complimented each other through their differences. Where Dean wanted to tackle things head on, Sammy chose to study them so he could figure out how they functioned.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"What're we gonna do?"

"We're gonna stay in the Impala until Bobby gets here."

"What if it tries to attack us?"

"She won't," came from the small figure huddled next to Dean. "She isn't here to attack you."

"She?" John twisted around to stare at Aydan. "How do you know the damn thing's female?"

"Cause I know her name." Aydan lowered her eyes to the back of the seat. Not before he caught a glimpse of the worry, fear, and something else he couldn't define. "I know why she's here."

"Why?" His tone was that drill sergeant one he used when he wanted him and Sammy to straighten up and fly right. Dean squirmed despite not being the one he spoke too. He softened his tone to avoid scaring her further. "Why is a hellhound here, Aydan?"

"Cause of the man in black." She lifted her head to stare out the window. John wondered if she could see the hellhound. And if she could, why. "Ramsey is here to make sure he and his hellhound stay away."

"Stays away?" His brow puckered. "Stays away from who?"

"Me."

Her eyes shifted from the world outside to Sammy, still blissfully asleep, before lifting to his. A silent message. One that punched John in the gut. This yellow-eyed man wasn't after Aydan.

He was also after Sammy.

_Over my dead body_, John swore as a low growl sounded right outside the driver's door.

* * *

**A/N**: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I'd like to thank Sharzdah and umbrella0326 for their lovely reviews!


	20. Vows

John breathed a sigh of relief when they made the turn into the Salvage Yard. The last fifty miles he felt eyes watching them. Any moment he expected that yellow-eyed son of a bitch to attack them. What exactly he wanted with Aydan, he didn't know. _But I aim to find out_, he decided as Bobby pulled to a stop in front of the repair shed and cut the engine.

"We're here," he announced gruffly. "Everybody out."

Dean clambered out of the truck in his usual burst of enthusiasm. John hid a smile. Definitely got a case of ants in his pants,he thought as he watched him bounce around the yard. Aydan watched him, too, a bemused smile on her face. _They sure are like night and day_, he realized as he climbed out of the truck.

Dean was like other boys his age. Got into mischief every now and again, liked getting down in the dirt, hollered and yelled when he got overly excited. Aydan, however, didn't remind of the sort of girl who liked digging for worms or wrestling in the dirt. There was a quiet earnestness about her. As if she watched the world to learn from it.

_Like Sammy_, he realized as he lifted him out of the cab.

"Dean, come get your brother so I can help Bobby."

Dean instantly came over to take him. Sammy didn't do more than issue a small protest at being drug out of the nice warm cab.

"It's cold."

"Cause it's snowing, doofus."

"Dean." John sent him a stern look. "Don't call your brother a doofus."

Instantly contrite, Dean mumbled, "I'm sorry, sir," before he moved to stand beside Aydan.

"You two take Sam and go on in the house," Bobby said as he started to unhook the Impala. "Your dad and I will be in soon as we're done here."

The kids nodded before turning to head inside.

"Beats the hell outta me," Bobby said once they were alone. "Kid don't scream that she's anything more'n a kid to me."

"There's gotta be some reason this son of a bitch is after her."

"Who the hell knows with these bastards." Bobby squinted as he stared at the house. "All we can do is keep an eye out."

"If that yellow-eyed son of a bitch shows up," he told him in a low, forceful tone. "I'm gonna kill him."

Same as he'd kill whatever killed Mary.

He guaranteed it.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I want to send special thank you's to Sharzdah, umbrella0326, Kathy, and Natasha Walker for their lovely reviews!


	21. Guardians

"Did you find out anything more about Elizabeth Mulgrady?" John asked once he and Bobby got settled in his living room. "Something that might suggest what she might have been into? Or that might have gotten her summoned as some demon's servant?"

"No." Bobby got up to get a book off a shelf. "But I did remember reading something that coincides with what the kid told you about the hellhound protecting her."

"Yeah?" John reached for his mug of coffee. "What's that?"

"Well, there's a story in this book of myths about four women created by God to guard the elements."

"Elements?" He had a vague idea what Bobby meant. "As in...?"

"Earth, air, wind and fire," Bobby confirmed as he walked over to his desk. "The cosmic elements that explain nature and the complexity of things like matter by breaking them into smaller substances."

A few books he picked up mentioned the cosmic elements. Mostly in relation to cosmologies and mythology. John frowned as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee.

"Don't the Chinese believe in there being something like five elements?"

"They add metal and wood to their list," Bobby said with a nod. "To them, the elements are different types of energy that are in constant interaction with one another."

"Yin and Yang."

"Basically."

John set his mug on his knee and leaned back in his chair.

"So, we're talking about a sort of cosmic balance here that might be held by four women created by God?"

"Pretty much."

John heard Aydan laugh, a low and warm sound that drained away his lingering tension. He turned his head to look at her. She stood at the stove with Sammy, alternating between flipping pancakes, and stirring something in a pan on the back burner. Her face brightened at something Sammy said.

_No, not just brightened_, he realized. She positively _glowed_. Almost as if someone placed a flashlight beneath her skin and turned it on. _Is Bobby onto something with this guardian bit? Could Aydan be a descendant of one of these women_? He shrugged the thought off. Aydan was an ordinary little girl. _A pretty little angel who shouldn't be worrying about anything other than what she's getting from Santa._

"How does any of this fit with her having a hellhound as her personal protector?"

"Well." Bobby flipped some pages in the book. "According to this, God assigned his most trusted angels to watch over and protect these women."

"His most trusted angels?" One of John's brows lifted. "As in harps and wings and halos?"

"As in his fiercest and strongest." Bobby turned the book so he could see the images on the page. "Archangels. Considered the Navy SEALs of Heaven."

"You're telling me that angels are real." John couldn't hide his skepticism. He just didn't believe in angels. No more than he really thought there were demons. "C'mon, Bobby. Even you gotta know there's no such thing as angels."

"Ain't never seen one," he admitted gruffly. "But that don't mean they don't exist."

"Doesn't mean they're real, either."

"You didn't think vampires were real until you met Elkins."

"I didn't think any of this was real until whatever broke into my house and killed Mary." John ran a hand over his face. "You were saying, though?"

Bobby set the book on the desk in front of him.

"Take a look at what angels were assigned to which guardian."

John's eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he looked down at where Bobby pointed.

"Are you shitting me?"

"Fraid not." Bobby shut the book. "And it gets worse."

"Lemme guess." He set his mug on the floor and reached for the book. "One of them has a hellhound?"

"Care to guess what its damn name is?"

"Ramsey."

"Earned yourself a beer."

John blew out a heavy breath. "Why would an angel send a hellhound to protect Aydan?"

It made no sense. Angels were from Heaven. Hellhounds were from, well, Hell. A kernel of suspicion swirled through his confusion. Brought a heavy dose of doubt and unease. He stifled both. Waited for Bobby to answer.

"Well." Bobby looked to where Aydan was showing Sammy how to make pancakes. "I'd say it's cause the kid's a descendant of one of the guardians."

"What guardian, though?" He had a clue but wanted Bobby to confirm it. "Book give you any clue?"

"Given her name means little fire," Bobby said slowly. "I'd say she's a descendant of the guardian of fire."

"Who was assigned to protect the guardian of fire?"

He already suspected the answer but figured he'd give Bobby the chance to twist the knives in his gut, anyway.

"Says the care of the guardian of fire was given to his most trusted son." Bobby looked at him, his expression grim. "Lucifer."

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I want to thank Sharzdah and umbrella0326 for their wonderful reviews!


	22. Promises

Aydan wasn't merely the descendant of the guardian of fire they'd learn after breakfast.

She _was _the guardian of fire.

John swung his startled gaze to where she stood, hands folded neatly in front of her, eyes downcast, and shoulders hunched. Nerves, a little anxiety, and a big dose of uncertainty. As if she feared her secret would change their thoughts about her. _As if we can see her as anything more than a little girl with a demon after her_.

Dean edged closer to her, offering much-needed support, but also offering silent protection. _I put that responsibility on him_, he realized, gut twisting with a familiar mix of guilt and regret. _When I told him to watch out for her like he does Sammy, I made him responsible for her safety and well-being, too. _

Dean took him at his word. The glint in his eye, the set of his jaw, and the straightening of his shoulders all said he'd fight whatever came after her with everything he had. John couldn't help the tingle of pride that shot through him. No more than he could fight the swirls of guilt that accompanied it.

_Boys are soldiers_, he thought as he ran a hand over his face. _That's what they gotta be in this world. _There was no other choice. Not for them. The only way they'd survive was by being stronger and smarter than the things that might come after them. For now, though, Dean needed to let him and Bobby worry about protecting them from the yellow-eyed son of a bitch.

"Dean," he said. "You take Sammy and go upstairs. We want to talk with Aydan for a few minutes."

"But..."

"Now, Dean."

He went, not happily, tugging a protesting Sammy behind him. Once they were gone he turned back to Aydan. She twisted her fingers and pointedly avoided his gaze. Bobby cleared his throat and nudged a chair towards her.

"Take a seat," he told her gruffly. "We ain't gonna bite you or anything."

"You're hunters." She slid into the seat, keeping her hands in her lap, and her gaze on the table. "You hunt things like me."

"We hunt things that hurt people," John said. "Monsters."

"Like the yellow-eyed man."

He nodded. "Like the yellow-eyed man." _And like the thing that killed Mary_. He didn't say that. No, he kept to the matter at hand. "We need to call your mom and dad. They need to know where you are and what's going on."

"My mother's dead." Somber eyes briefly lifted to his. "She sacrificed herself to stop my father from using her to open the cage containing the one who can upset the balance and bring about the end."

Well, that confirmed his suspicions about her parents. John swallowed a few choice words and tried to think of what to say. Thankfully, Bobby stepped in to ask the other question that needed asking.

"Who is this fella that nobody wants freed from his cage?"

Aydan hesitated for a second. Finally she said, her voice barely a whisper, "Abel."

"Abel?" John's eyebrows shot straight up to his hairline. "As in Cain's brother, Abel?"

"Yes."

The fear on her face, in her voice tore at him. He wanted to reach out to her. To comfort her. He wasn't any good at this nurturing shit. The most he managed with the boys was either pulling Sammy into his lap or placing a hand on Dean's shoulder, and telling them everything was gonna be okay.

_I gotta do something here_, he thought as Bobby muttered a few choice things beneath his breath. It didn't matter if she _was_the key to starting an apocalypse. She was still a kid in need of some sort of parental figure to let her know she was safe.

"It's gonna be okay." The words sounded as flimsy as they felt. "Nobody's gonna use you to open a cage and start whatever hell."

A long howl came from outside. A reminder that something else was out there that wasn't gonna let Aydan be used.

"Thinking that demonic pit bull agrees with you."

"Long as she keeps that yellow-eyed son of a bitch away," John said as brimstone wafted beneath the door. "She can do whatever the hell she wants."

"Right." Bobby set a phone on the table. "Let's see what her family's gotta say so we can figure out what'n hell we're gonna do."

John already knew what he was gonna do. He was gonna hunt down this yellow-eyed son of a bitch and put a bullet in him.

End of story.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

Want to send thanks to Sharzdah and umbrella0326 for their lovely reviews!


	23. Worst Fears

His greatest fear almost came true when someone tried to take Sammy at the hardware store. Exactly who tried to take him, he didn't know. All Sammy would say after they got back to Bobby's was that a man came up to him and told him he'd take him to live with children as special as him.

"But the angel made him go away before he could take me there."

"Angel?" The fear rolling around inside his gut made his tone sharper than he intended. He took a deep breath to steady himself before asking, "What angel?"

"The angel," was all Sammy said, though.

"He didn't tell you his name?"

"No." He shook his head. "He just told me to run back to you."

John had no clue what happened in that hardware store. He didn't know who this _angel_ his son claimed saved him was. He figured it was one of the locals who stepped up when they saw what was going on. No matter what, he owed the man for his timely interference. Without him, he might have lost his boy.

Like he lost Mary.

He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't lose his boys. They were all he had. _I'll be more vigilant_, he decided as he ran an unsteady hand over his face. _Do whatever's necessary to keep them safe_. He'd make sure nothing could get near those kids. Teach them how to protect themselves. Dean was already proving how capable he was with a gun. Sammy would also learn once he was old enough. For now, what he needed to do was to teach his youngest boy about walking up to strangers.

_It's a conversation_, he realized as he pulled Sammy into his lap, _long overdue_. A good father would have already had this talk with his son. Made sure he understood he didn't talk to strangers much less go with them.

It wasn't like he claimed he was a good father.

No, he was a shit father and this proved it.

* * *

**A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I'd like to thank Sharzdah and umbrella0326 for their wonderful reviews!


	24. Angels and Demons

"It was the kid," Bobby told him once the kids were upstairs for the night. "She summoned this angel."

"Aydan?" His brow tilted. "You're saying Aydan summoned whatever it was that helped Sammy?"

Bobby lifted his beer but didn't take a swallow.

"You got another kid around here who can converse with angels?"

John frowned. This conversation had taken an unusual turn. There was no damn way he was gonna accept that what she summoned was an angel, though. No damn way. He told Bobby that as he reached for his own beer.

"You aren't suggesting Aydan called down an angel to save Sammy?"

"If I didn't see and hear it with my own eyes and ears, I wouldn't have believed it myself."

"You heard her call it?"

"I did." He set his bottle on the table. "Lemme tell you, that kid's got enough power to wipe out half the town if she sets her mind to it."

"She wouldn't do that." John finished his beer and got up to get another. "She's been taught to respect her gift and use it only for the right purposes." And he was damn glad she used her gift to summon whatever the hell she summoned. If she hadn't he might have lost Sammy.

"I don't know what all she said," Bobby said. "She spoke in Gaelic. I think. Just caught one word. A name from the sounds of it."

"A name?" John looked back at him as he popped the top off the beer and tossed it in the sink. "What she call it?"

Because it wasn't an angel. It couldn't be.

"Castiel."

"Castiel?"

"What I heard her say." Bobby finished his beer and took the one John got out for him. "Looked in the Bible but didn't see that name pop up."

"Maybe it wasn't an angel then."

Because there was no such thing as angels.

Or demons.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! I hope this finds you well!

I want to send special thank you's to Sharzdah, umbrella0326, and Kathy!


	25. If Wishes Came True

If wishes came true then Mary'd be alive, they'd still live in their house in Lawrence, he'd be working in the shop he co-owned with Mike, Dean'd be playing on a little league team, and they'd be getting Sammy ready to join the Boy Scouts.

If wishes came true then they'd celebrate holidays like Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas as a family, take family photos at the mall, and go on family vacations to Disneyworld and the Grand Canyon.

If wishes came true then Dean would attend the same school for more than half a semester, go on camping trips and sleepovers with his friends, and worry about how to get that new bike for Christmas.

If wishes came true then he'd say to hell with it, give up hunting and his obsessive need for revenge on the thing that killed Mary, keep Aydan as his own, and be the kind of father they all deserved.

Wishes didn't come true, however.

And a fifth of Jack didn't drown his guilt.

* * *

**A/N**: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

This is based on a prompt I found on Facebook that said "If wishes came true..."

I'd like to thank Sharzdah and Kathy for their wonderful reviews!


	26. Holiday Surprises

Holidays wouldn't be holidays in the Winchester household if there wasn't some sort of tragedy attached to them. The last time they had a holiday without a mishap was before Mary's death. _Strike that_, he thought as he stared at the amber liquid swirling in the bottom of his glass. _Mary's cousin got killed by that drunk driver the Christmas before Sammy was born_.

"Dad?" Dean stood in the doorway with a worried look. "Are you okay?"

Everything in John screamed at him to lie. To tell him that everything was fine. That he was just tired. He chose not to do that. Not this time. If his boy was old enough to ask him if he was alright, well, then he was old enough to hear the truth.

"No, Dean." He indicated for him to take a seat next to him. "I'm not okay."

"Are you upset 'cause of what happened to Aydan's family?"

How could he explain how he wasn't simply upset about Aydan losing her uncles, her grandmother, and a couple of cousins all in a matter of hours? The only thought in his mind was that if her family, all descendants of the first guardians could be killed, than so could his.

And that scared him shitless.

"It's what happened to Aydan's family," he settled on saying as Dean took a seat beside him. "But it's also a buncha other things."

"Like the thing that killed Mom?"

It was one of the rare times Dean mentioned Mary. He normally only talked about her on the day she died. Even then it wasn't anything specific. He surprised him when he asked what she looked like a few weeks back. It killed him that he didn't have a picture to show him or Sammy. What pictures they had got destroyed in the fire. Along with everything else.

Dean saying, "Dad?" drew him from his dark musings.

"Yeah, some of it's about the thing that killed your mom." That'd always be true. "But it's also about you and your brother."

"Me and Sammy?" At his nod, Dean frowned. "But he and I are fine."

"I know you are." He set his glass on the table next to the couch. "But I still worry."

"Why, though?" His puzzled expression amused John. "'Cause of what happened the other day at the hardware store?"

"And at the gas station the other night."

_And all the other things that have happened since that night_, he added.

"But nothing happened 'cause Aydan made the lights explode."

"Yeah, I know nothing happened," he said with a nod. "It could have, though."

"You're upset over what might have happened?" His confusion made John smile. "But that's..."

"Stupid?" His lips kicked up at the corners. "Crazy?"

"Kinda, yeah."

"Dean, this isn't something you're gonna understand until you have kids of your own, but it's not easy being a dad."

"Not easy being a son."

"Yeah, I reckon that's true." He placed a hand on his shoulder. "And I know I'm hard on you at times. I ask a lot of you. Stuff that no other kid your age has to do or should have to do. I ask you to do those things to make sure nothing happens to you or Sammy if I'm not around."

"I know why you ask me to do stuff, Dad." His solemn expression shot daggers into John's heart. "I don't mind. Really."

"I know you don't." He did, though, and that was his point. He let it go for the moment. Dean had enough responsibilities weighing him down. He needed to worry about being a kid for once. And there was one way to get him to do that. "Let's go get a piece of them pies Aydan made, huh?"

"Okay!" Dean jumped up but didn't race into the kitchen as he expected. "Dad?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"Can Aydan stay with us?"

John felt like he got sucker-punched by Andre the Giant. It never once occurred to him that his boys might want Aydan to stay with them. _Why wouldn't they, though_? he realized as he stared at Dean. Aydan is a warm and nurturing presence. Something they admittedly lacked. Ellen was the closest thing they had to a mother. _And I screwed that up_.

"Would you like her to stay with us?"

"Well, she sorta already feels like she belongs with us." A thoughtful frown puckered his brow. "I mean, she makes things better, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, son." John barely got the words around the lump in his throat. "She does."

"Can she stay then?"

"Yeah, Dean." John pushed to his feet. "She can stay." He set a hand on his shoulder. "If she wants."

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! I hope this finds you well!

I'd like to thank Sharzdah and Kathy for their lovely reviews!


	27. Letting Go

Thomas Cain arriving late Christmas night ended any and all thought of Aydan remaining with them. John tried to convince himself that her going with the man was what was best for her.

Just because he found a way to accept her leaving them didn't mean his boys did. Sammy protested her leaving, loudly, while Dean glowered his resentment from the top of the stairs. A stern look quieted Sammy. Dean, however, only got more sullen.

That his boy had his temper wasn't lost on John. A part of him found pride and amusement in how alike they were. What father wouldn't? Another part, though, dreaded the teenage years that were right around the corner. _Have a feeling me and him are gonna butt heads, _he thought, rubbing a hand over his face._ And quite often if the last few months have been any indication._

He understood how Dean felt. Aydan brought a sense of joy, peace, and calm into their family. He connected with his boys in a way he hadn't in a long time. They celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas as a family. Hell, he got in a snowball fight earlier that afternoon with them. Something he wouldn't have done before she came into their lives. _No_, he realized as Aydan glanced back at him, a small smile curving her lips. Dean wasn't wrong when he said she made things better. She did.

She just wasn't safe here.

How did he explain to them how Aydan leaving was for the best? How could he make them understand what he barely understood himself?

Thomas Cain didn't lie to him. No, he bluntly told him that the man after Aydan wouldn't stop coming after her. That he'd continue to hunt her until she was dead. _And us along with her, _he thought as he watched her follow the mysterious man. John didn't doubt what Thomas said. The man spoke nothing but the cold, hard truth. He didn't know who the man in black was. He had no idea who the man could send after Aydan or his boys. Even if Bobby, Pastor Jim, and Daniel helped him, they'd be outnumbered.

And his boys would be alone if that happened.

Thomas could protect her from the man after her. He could hide her in a place where he couldn't find her. Give her a chance to grow up as close to normal as was possible. Allow her to refine the gift she had been given.

Something John, if he was being completely honest with himself, couldn't. Hell, his boys didn't even have a proper home. They lived in bottom rung hotels or slept in the Impala as he hunted. It wasn't fair to do to Aydan what he had done to them. Would the boys be better off living somewhere else, with someone else, having normal lives? _No_, he decided as he watched Aydan climb into an old pick-up. _I'm their father. They belong with me._

Aydan deserved better than a bitter, broken down drunk barely keeping shit together for him and his boys.

John made a hard decision as Thomas fired up his truck: he let her go.

And added the hurt and the regret on top of the rest.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

Just want to thank the guest who left their intriguing review ;)


	28. Hidden Messages

John made his last entry in his journal on November 2. The anniversary of the event that changed his, and the boys lives, forever. Realizing his lapse, he sat down to jot his thoughts about what happened Christmas night.

_Where to begin_? he wondered as he flipped the book open to a fresh page. So much happened since November 2. Aydan and the man with yellow eyes being most prevalent. A twinge of guilt shot through him as he thought about the little girl who briefly filled his, and the boys lives with happiness.

Dean hadn't spoken to him since Aydan left. The silent, accusatory looks he shot at him when he didn't think he was watching started to wear on John earlier that day. He tried explaining to him, again, that it wasn't like he had any choice in the matter. Aydan's family sent Thomas Cain to get her and with Thomas Cain she needed to go.

Dean's sullen response said he didn't care. Finally, patience at an end, he sent him to bed without supper. It wasn't fair to punish him for expressing his displeasure over the situation in the only way he had, but dammit, what did he want him to do?

John grabbed his pen and went to start writing but stopped when he spied the piece of paper resting on the blank page. That didn't strike him as unusual. Dozens of other post-it notes and fragments of whatever he had handy to write things down on were stuck between other pages in the journal.

What caught his attention about this particular piece of paper, though, was the way his name was written across the front. It was not something he'd write to himself. Nor did the handwriting belong to Bobby or Dean. Neither of whom would have touched his journal without permission.

His brow furrowed as he wondered who had. He picked the paper up and flipped it open. Shock rippled through him as he read what she had written: _Thomas Cain is Cain._

As in firstborn son of Adam and Eve, John realized, fear forming a hard ball in his belly. He read a number of books that referenced Cain. Most simply called him the originator of greed, jealousy, violence, and murder. Others claimed he became a feared and powerful demon after he murdered his brother, Abel.

And _he _let her go with him.

He went to leap from his chair but stopped when he spied the other names she wrote at the bottom of her note: _Ramiel, Asmodeus, Azazel, and Dagon._

Curious, he sat back down. He didn't have any idea who the men were or why Aydan wrote their names down for him. Something, however, told him she left him the names for a reason.

Aydan made a strange comment the day before Thomas Cain arrived. "_What took my family also took yours,_" she said. She wouldn't elaborate on what she meant. Could one of these men be the one who killed Mary? If so, he'd find them, and he'd kill them.

Before he could begin searching for these men, though, he needed to find where Cain took Aydan.

_And take her back._

Resolve firm, John shoved to his feet, reaching for his keys with one hand, and grabbing a bag stocked with the usual assortment of weapons with the other. He then turned towards the door, stopping only to wake Dean and tell him to watch out for Sammy before he stalked from the room.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I want to send a special thank you to Sharzdah, Kathy, and umbrella0326 for their lovely reviews!


	29. Instincts

Several feet of snow kept them from celebrating Dean's birthday. John tried to dig them out when there was a break in the storm. He started to believe they'd manage to reach the car when the storm resumed and dumped a boatload of fresh snow inside of an hour. There'd be none of their usual celebration of pizza, arcade games, and ice cream to mark the day this year.

He had to settle on making canned soup, grilled cheese, and sticking a candle in a Twinkie. He swore to Dean they'd do something special once the storm let up. Hell, he'd take 'em to McDonald's and let them go nuts in that creepy playland if that's what he wanted.

Thankfully, he bought provisions right before the storm hit. They had enough cereal, milk, bread, peanut butter, jelly, and canned stuff to last a few days. If things got real bad, he'd just have to make it to the convenience store across the street from the hotel.

Sammy giggled as he watched some movie on the television and colored in one of his coloring books. Dean pushed back his chair and started to get up when a hard blast of wind pelted the window.

"Dad?"

John looked up from the book that Aydan gave him on spells and rituals.

"Yeah, Dean?"

"We gonna be okay?"

"Yeah." One brow tilted upwards. "Why?"

"Well." He glanced at the window, a frown between his eyes, and a look of consternation on his face. "It's just... it's getting kinda bad out there." He looked over at him. "Ain't it?"

"It's just a bad snow storm," John said. "Common in this area at this time of year."

"I guess." Dean made to get up again but stopped. "Do you think someone caused this storm?"

The question caught John by surprise. He was seeing that hunter instinct coming out in Dean more and more of late. He followed orders without question. Shot the .22 like a pro. _And can fight hand-to-hand better at nine than many of those I served in the Marines with_. Interested in hearing what he thought, he closed his book and gave him his undivided attention.

"Why do you think someone caused this storm?"

"Well." His frown deepened. "To keep you from stopping whatever is going on at the hospital with the people."

John made a speculative sound deep in his throat as he stared over at the window. Was it possible there was something or someone trying to keep him from figuring out what was happening up at the hospital? Sure. _Nothing's impossible_, he realized as Dean carried his plate to the sink. He learned how manipulative these things could be after the thing that took over H's body. Still...

"I think it's just bad luck," he told Dean. "That's all."

Because if the Winchester's didn't have bad luck?

They'd have no luck at all.

* * *

**A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I just want to thank Sharzdah for their lovely review!


	30. Parents Worst Nightmare

The line separating him from _hunter _and _father _tended to blur when the cases he worked involved children. He doubted there was anyone who'd find it easy to separate themselves from a case involving the death of children.

Not unless they were a heartless, soulless monster, of course.

As John drove away from the hospital, he went over what few facts he managed to gather. Ten kids dead in less than a week from an undetermined illness with an additional ten more sick.

Doctor Hydeker, the man in charge of the case, told him the children came in unconscious, their immune systems severely compromised, and with no underlying cause that explained why.

"_This runs through entire families_," he said after further inquiry. "_Starting with one child before affecting others_."

John's thoughts instantly went to his boys back at the motel. He couldn't handle if they ended up catching whatever these kids had and dying. Losing Mary had been hard enough for him to bear. To lose his boys? Well, they may as well toss his ass in a prison cell and throw away the key.

Grim determination filled him as he pulled into the motel parking lot. This illness wasn't gonna have his boys. He'd take them back to Bobby's, he decided as he parked and made his way towards the door. They'd be safe there with him. _Plus, I can question Bobby some about what's going on._

A sound — that of a rifle being primed for firing — grabbed his attention. _The boys_, was his only thought. _Something is after the boys_. He reached for his revolver a second before he kicked open the door. The sight that greeted him sucked the air from his lungs and almost plunged him into the pits of hell.

Dean stood in the open doorway of the bedroom, rifle aimed at something in a black hood while Sammy lay unconscious on the bed. Every instinct kicked in when he saw the trouble that his youngest boy was in. He charged forward, shouting at Dean to, "get down!" while pulling the trigger to send the son of a bitch back to wherever it came from.

* * *

**A/N**: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

This is tagged to **1x18** as it centers around the flashback of that episode which is Dean's memory of the events.

Special thanks to Sharzdah for their lovely review!


	31. Fault

John could blame Dean for what happened but the truth was it was also his fault. He left him in charge while he went to speak with Doctor Hydeker. He gave him the order to watch out for Sammy while he was gone. Something Dean confessed he hadn't done.

"_I told you not to leave this room. I told you not to let him out of your sights._"

Dean simply hung his head and nodded. John hated being so hard on him. He was just a kid, after all. He wanted to do normal kid things. Orders were orders, though, and Dean failed to follow 'em. He couldn't let that go. He had to impress on his son how important following his orders was. _Dean has to know that when I give him clear instructions that he's to obey them without question_.

Of greater concern to him was the fact that Dean couldn't pull the trigger when he needed to and Sammy almost got killed because of it. That, John realized as he guided the Impala around a bend in the road. That was on him. _I haven't taught him well enough. Haven't prepared him for situations where he might have to kill to protect himself and his brother._

If Dean faltered like that again, one or both of 'em could die. _I can't let that happen_, he decided, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. _Dean has to learn to pull that trigger. There's no if's, and's or but's about it._

As he thought that, however, he questioned what kind of father and man he was to teach his nine-year-old son to take a life. _I'm the kind of father I gotta be_, he thought as he changed lanes. _The kind who teaches his boys that when it comes to family, you go to the ends of the earth for 'em_.

John pressed down on the accelerator once he saw he crossed over into Wisconsin. He'd pop into Blue Earth to speak with Jim. _He might have some ideas about what that thing back there was_. Plus, it'd be good for him and the boys to unwind a little after what happened.

Especially Dean.

He glanced at his son in the rear view mirror. His face had worry lines even in sleep. _That's my fault_, John realized, gut twisting. _I caused every one of those worry lines. They'__re my doing. _

Because he was the kind of father who placed the responsibility ofhis youngest son on the shoulders of his nine-year-old. Who taught him he needed to kill so he and his brother could live.

No good father did that.

Not that he was one.

* * *

**A/N**: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

Special thanks to Sharzdah for their lovely review!


	32. Reading Lesson

John came home from a hunt to find Dean sitting with Sammy at the small table. The paper plates they used for the pizza he told Dean to order before going out were on top of the pizza box shoved next to their empty glasses and napkins at the back of the table. John shook his head, amused.

Both boys were so engrossed in the book open in front of them they didn't hear him walk in. John quickly recognized the leather-bound book as his journal. Surprise and a burst of anger shot through him. He quickly banked it. He never expressly forbid Dean from reading it. Hell, he only started writing in the damn thing because Fletcher Gable told him to write everything down.

Well, if he wasn't writing everything he learned down for his boys than who the hell was he writing it down for?

Still, his journal was a bit advanced for a beginner like Sam. He only started reading _Dick and Jane_a few weeks ago. His boy was smart as a whip, though. He already could read most of the words on his own. It was a big change from a year ago when he pulled Daniel's books down and pretended to read them.

_He wants books for Christmas_, he mused as he shifted his bag to his other shoulder. Dean, however, wanted a gun of his own. _Polar opposites_, he thought as Sammy started to read. _Sam wants answers, Dean wants to jump right to solutions. _

"A line of salt is a..." Sammy paused. "What's that word, Dean?"

"Barrier."

He looked up at him, a frown between his eyes.

"What's that mean?"

"It's something spirits can't cross."

"Why?"

John decided it best to end this particular lesson. _Before he has Sammy read a spell that could really screw the pooch._

"Dean." Both boys looked up, Dean guiltily and Sammy with a wide-toothy grin. "That's enough for one night."

"Yes, sir."

He closed the book as Sammy squealed and raced over to hug him around the legs.

"Daddy, I'm reading!"

"I can see that, kiddo." He ruffled his hair. "Doing good." He nodded. "You go on and get ready for bed now. We're pulling out early."

"We get pancakes for breakfast?"

John smiled.

"Yeah, we can get pancakes for breakfast." He turned and nudged him towards the bed. "Go on now."

He went and tossed himself on the bed without another word. John dropped his bag on the table and looked at Dean.

"You can have him read from my journal." He shrugged out of his coat. "Just don't let him read any of the spells. Okay?"

"Yeah, Dad." Dean put the book back in the drawer John left it in before going out to hunt. "Sure thing."

And then he took himself to bed, too.

* * *

**A/N**: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

Special thanks to Sharzdah, Kathy, and scootersmom their lovely reviews!


	33. Not my boys

They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Well, they never met a father hellbent on protecting his children from the monsters that didn't just lurk in the dark. A blind rage engulfed John as he entered a small farmhouse on the outskirts of town.

He counted five of them. Most, he saw, couldn't be more than five or six years older than Dean.

Not that it mattered.

They were vampires.

_And they tried to make my boys their next meal._

There was only one true method for killing a vampire according to Elkins: taking the sons of bitches heads off with a machete or other such sharp weapon.

John's lips peeled back as his fingers curled around the handle of his machete. He swung at the dark-haired girl that rushed at him when she spotted him. The blade sang as it sliced through the bitches head.

One hiss and she dropped to the ground.

No muss, no fuss, no more Elvira.

The other four joined her less than five minutes later.

* * *

**A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

Special thanks to Kathy and umbrella0326 for their lovely reviews!


	34. Out of Sight

"They're kids, John," Bobby growled. "They need more in their lives than field manuals and training exercises."

"They've gotta learn," John repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. "They gotta know how to fight anything that might come after them."

"I ain't saying they don't. Just that they need more than hunting in their lives. They're _boys_. They should be running around, hollering and whooping, and getting into all sorts of mischief."

John heaved a sigh and stared over at where the boys were setting off fireworks. It wasn't that he disagreed with what Bobby was saying. The boys _did_ deserve some normalcy in their lives. They should be allowed to play baseball or soccer on teams of boys their age, build tree forts, and get into all the things that boys their age tend to get into.

If they were a normal family, that's exactly what they'd be doing. _I'd still be turning wrenches and Mary would be there to make them dinner and cheer them on at practice._

They weren't a normal family, though. Mary was gone and he was doing his best to raise their boys on his own. Things like slumber parties, campouts, and the like weren't high on his list of necessary activities for them. Letting his boys outta his sight wasn't an option, not after what happened with Sammy's teacher, Ms. Lyle.

_I let Sammy go with someone I thought I could trust and look what almost happened._

Dean came through, though, and John couldn't have been more proud of him. His brother was beneath some sorta spell, there was a big ass monster made outta train parts coming after him, but his boy was smart enough to get his hands on his journal and read the exorcism out of it.

No, letting his boys outta of his sight wasn't an option.

Not anymore.

"They gotta learn," he said again as he lifted his beer to take a swallow. "They gotta know how to fight anything that might come after them."

_Because things will come after them_, he added as Sammy hollered and whooped as Dean set off another bottle rocket. _And I might not get there in time to save them._

Or be there at all.

The thought left him cold to the marrow of his being.

* * *

**A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	35. Surprising Caller

John came down hard — harder than he had before — on Dean. _He's only twelve_ kept playing through his head as he ripped into him.

Part of him regretted what he said. It wasn't like what happened was Dean's fault. Not entirely, anyway. He shouldered a good deal of the blame, himself. He should have done a better job of teaching Sammy about not talking to strangers.

He didn't apologize, though. Much as he wanted too, he didn't. Dean had to learn that he couldn't take his eyes off his brother.

Not even for a second.

John did and something — he wasn't ready to admit that Bobby was right about it being a demon — almost took his youngest boy from him. He could have lost both his boys because of his momentary lapse in judgement.

He let himself be tricked, manipulated by that... _thing_. He allowed himself to believe that everything could be okay... and it almost cost him his boys.

He couldn't let that happen again. He couldn't be weak. His boys wouldn't suffer because their father got conned by the things that took their mother.

He and Dean needed to keep a better eye on Sammy. Especially since he had no clue what Ms. Lyle wanted with him.

"_Sam's special_," was all she said after he demanded an explanation from her. Of course, he was, but John didn't think her definition was the same as his. She wasn't the only one to tell him his youngest son was special.

Silas also told him Sammy was special. Only, his words came with a warning.

"_Prepare yourselves_," he warned in a croak. "_Something wants your boy and it won't stop until it gets him_."

He passed out before John could ask him what the hell he meant. _What's so special about Sammy_? he asked himself for the thousandth time since leaving the hospital. _And what's coming that Dean and I need to make sure we're prepared for it?_

He didn't know but he sure as hell planned to find out. The front door opened and Bobby walked out, phone in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other.

"Here," he said, offering the phone. "You gotta phone call."

"I do?" At his nod, one brow winged up. "Who the hell'd be calling me here?"

_Especially since nobody knows where me and the boys are_, he added as he took the phone. Bobby's next words didn't provide any answers about his mystery caller.

"It's someone you ain't heard from in a while."

Curious now, John placed the receiver to his ear.

"This is John." His heart stopped when he heard the voice on the other end of the phone. "Where are you?" He exchanged a look with Bobby. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

* * *

**A/N:** Hello, all! I hope this finds you well!

Special thanks to Kathy for her lovely review!


	36. Surprise Reunions

He wasn't her dad. He didn't have any right whatsoever to tear into her the moment he saw her.

John couldn't help it, though.

There wasn't a switch that turned _Dad-mode_ on and off. _And if one does exist_, he thought as he made his way inside the bus station, _nobody thought to tell me about it_.

Her being there, though... well, he felt obligated to say _something_ about it. It didn't matter what her reasons were. She placed herself in an unnecessary amount of danger by running away from her guardian. _Even if that man is, himself, a demon._

John never stopped searching for Aydan or Cain. Guilt and worry about her safety haunted him around every turn. He let her go with the man. It was on him if something happened to her. Knowing Aydan was here, alive and safe, brought him a small measure of comfort.

Even if she risked her life to do it.

John searched the crowd for a girl about Dean's age with curly black hair, a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and a set of gray eyes that punched him in the gut whenever she turned them on him.

"Mr. Winchester?"

John turned and saw her sitting on a bench by the door. She had grown a bit since the Christmas she spent with them. He was willing to bet she was an inch or two taller than Dean. _They're adolescents now_, he realized as he made his way towards her. Growth spurts and the ability to talk back weren't the only changes the two had undergone in that time.

"Aydan..." She flinched at his sharp tone. Dammit, he hadn't meant to snap at her. He just didn't want her thinking he approved of her reckless decision to come here. "Aydan," he tried again. "What're you doing here? Where's Mr. Cain?"

"He's who sent me," she said as she stood. "To help you."

"Help me?" His brow knit. "Help me with what?"

"With keeping Sammy from those sent to take him from you."

* * *

**A/N**: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I want to send a special thank you to Kathy for her lovely review!


	37. My Boy

Sammy hooped and hollered the second he saw Aydan. The poor girl had less than a second before he latched onto her with arms that turned into tentacles when his youngest got excited or upset.

"I told Dean you'd come back but he didn't believe me!"

"'Cause I said it was too dangerous for her to come back, doofus."

Before John could tell Dean not to call his brother a doofus — or anything else for that matter — Sammy issued a heated denial.

"Nah uh!"

"Yuh huh."

"Boys." He set Aydan's duffel down and fixed them both with stern looks. "That's enough."

"Sorry, Dad," Dean mumbled, hunching his shoulders, and digging the toe of his sneaker into the floor. Sammy, however, returned his focus to Aydan.

"Are you gonna stay this time?" A grin wreathed his face. "Huh? Are you?"

"Oh, Sammy..."

She lifted those big gray eyes to his. Silently asking for help with giving an explanation that'd satisfy Sammy without upsetting him. _Or Dean_, he thought, glancing over at where he watched with eyes more observant and knowledgeable than any twelve-year-olds should be.

He dreaded dealing with Dean after Aydan returned home to Cain. A sort of cold war erupted between them after she left. He didn't want to go through another six weeks of silent, accusatory looks and stone-faced silence.

Especially since he came down hard on Dean for doing nothing more than expressing his displeasure about the situation. He wasn't nine anymore, though. _Kid's smarter and tougher than I was at his age, _he thought as he worked out what answer to give that'd satisfy him and Sammy. _Can't just send him to bed without his supper_. He finally settled on a version of the truth that wasn't fabricated as such.

"Aydan can only stay for a few days."

"Why only a few days?" Sammy's lower lip jutted out a fraction of an inch. "Why can't she stay for good?"

"Because her home is with Mr. Cain."

"Why's she here?" Dean asked before Sammy could launch into the protest John saw brewing. "I thought she went with Mr. Cain 'cause it wasn't safe for her anywhere else?"

"That's still true," John replied. "But Mr. Cain had to go away on business this week." The lie tasted as foul as it sounded. There was no other choice, though. He couldn't tell Dean the real reason she was there. He'd want to go and kill whatever was after his brother. "So he asked Bobby if she could come and stay with him for a few days."

"What about the yellow-eyed man?" A frown formed between Dean's eyes. "Won't he come after her?"

"He's disappeared."

That had John's attention. He shifted his attention to her.

"Disappeared?" At her nod, he frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," she confirmed. "My father has disappeared, as well."

"Sounds like something big's 'bout to go down," Bobby said as he entered the room. "A demonic free-for-all if you will."

"That's why Mr. Cain asked me to come and stay with you."

It hurt hearing his lie spew from her mouth. Bobby glanced at him, one brow cocked, but didn't give away that she spoke a lie.

"Because he can see the crap about to hit the fan?" he said instead.

"And because he believes you and Mr. Winchester can stop it."

Her gaze dropped down to Sammy. Just for a fraction of a second. It was enough to tell John that whatever was coming had something to do with his boy.

_Why_? John wanted to ask her. _What do they want with him? He's just a boy._

_My boy._

Those questions would have to wait until he could get her alone. For now, he'd let the kids enjoy being back together.

They deserved that small bit of happiness.

* * *

**A/N:** Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I want to send a special thank you to umbrella0326 for their lovely review!


	38. Premonitions

John waited until the boys were tucked into bed before questioning Aydan about why she was there. _And what she knows about Sammy._

"I don't know much," she admitted as she sat on the couch. "Just that something is coming for Sammy and that they mean to take him by whatever means necessary."

_That'll happen over my dead body_, John thought as he reached for his beer. Normally he'd have drained it and gotten up to get another. Not tonight. He needed to keep a clear head and a tight hold over his temper. Otherwise, he might storm out of the house and hunt down anything he could find.

"Why do they want Sammy?"

"I don't know." It wasn't the answer he wanted but it was honest. "I just know that whoever wants Sammy wants him for _something_."

She didn't need to add that whoever wanted his boy didn't want to use him for anything good. John gleaned that much from Silas before the man slipped back into unconsciousness.

"You don't have any idea what they want Sammy for?"

"Cain thinks Sammy is the key to something." Bitterness stung the air between them. "Like me."

"A key? To what?"

What could Sammy open? John wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"That's what he's investigating."

"And why he sent you here?"

"Well..." She rose and walked to the window. "Sorta."

_That's kid talk for you-aren't-gonna-like-the-reason_. John hid a smile and leaned back in his chair.

"Sorta?"

"Yes." Her eyes met his in the glass for a brief second. "Sorta."

John started battling the stalling-for-time beast after Dean hit nine. He was well accustomed to dealing with it. Only, Aydan wasn't like Dean. She didn't hold things back because she feared he'd get angry with her. No, her reason for not telling him why Cain sent her was deeper. Personal.

Well, there was one way to deal with a kid beating around the bush: catch 'em on the other side of the bush and force the truth outta 'em.

"Why did Cain send you here, Aydan?"

"Uhm."

"Aydan..."

"I, uh, sorta had..." She grimaced. "Well, they were, ah, dreams."

"Dreams?" One brow winged up. "What kinda dreams?"

"Well, I call them dreams but Cain says they're more like premonitions."

"Premonitions?"

She nodded. "Of things that have happened or will happen."

"What have these premon— dreams been about?"

Her eyes again met his in the glass.

"You."

"Me?" He couldn't quite mask his surprise. "They've been about me?"

"And about Sammy and Dean."

Even as unease slithered into John's belly, he asked, "What have these... dreams been about?"

"A woman with a false face took Sammy to where the yellow-eyed demon waited for them at a train yard." Brimstone perfumed the air. A reminder that a demonic pit bull prowled outside. "You found them before she could hand Sammy over to him, angering him. He sent a monster made of train parts to kill you and Dean but you stopped it."

Stunned, John could only gape at her. Nobody but Bobby knew about what happened with Ms. Lyle.

"You... saw this?" he managed around the ball of ice lodged in his throat. "You dreamed it?"

She slowly turned to him.

"It came to pass, didn't it?"

"Yes."

She sighed as she turned to stare again out the window.

"Then my next dream will likely come to pass, too."

Unease burned in his gut now.

"What did you see?"

A low, bone-chilling howl sounded before Aydan could reply. He and Bobby figured out what those vocalizations meant the last time the hellhound was there. Long howls warned something was close. Shorter, guttural sounding ones indicated she was hunting something.

This was a combination of the two.

_Something's close and she's hunting it_.

"Go upstairs," he ordered as he shoved to his feet. "Help Dean keep Sammy safe."

Aydan left the room without a word.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!


	39. Conversations

The conversation started off the same as both of those he had with Silas.

"Your son is special."

"He's just a boy." John didn't growl it. He simply didn't have the energy too. "_My_ boy."

"Yes, he is." A faint smile crossed the lips of the man seated across from him. "That doesn't change the fact that he's special."

A mixture of emotions ran through him as he stared into those steely eyes. If there was anyone in this world who could understand what he was going through, it was Cain. _He's dealing with it himself_, he realized as the waitress came by to pour them more coffee. _Fighting to keep demons away from a girl they want to use to free someone from their cage_.

"What do they want him for?"

"The same reason they want Aydan."

"Sammy isn't like Aydan, though. He's not a Guardian."

"No, he's not." Cain curled his fingers around his mug. "But whatever was done to your boy on the night your wife died has the potential to start the same apocalypse that they want to use Aydan to start."

"Are you saying that the man I saw in the nursery that night did something to Sammy?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"What?" John's fingers tightened on his mug. "What did he do?"

"I haven't managed to figure that out." Cain lifted his mug and took a sip before continuing. "Given what the hunters after you told you? I suspect he fed him demon blood."

John was too shocked for anger, and too busy trying to process what Cain told him to realize he gripped his mug so tightly it shattered. Hot coffee spilled all over his hands and the table.

"What?" This time he did growl. "The son of a bitch did what?"

"Fed him demon blood." Cain calmly signaled to their waitress. She quickly came over and wiped up the spilled coffee. After she went to get John another mug, he said, "That demon's blood is how Sammy was able to call Ramsay."

"Ramsay?" John's brow wrinkled. "When did he call Ramsay?"

_And why?_

"When you took him to see the man, Silas." Cain leaned back in his seat. "Why do you think he ended up in pieces?"

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

This is taking some liberties with an entry in John's journal about Silas and his murder. The implication is that Sam (or something trying to protect him) murdered Silas. I opted to change it a tad.


	40. Father and Sons

Blood, anger, and regret. Those were the summation of his existence in the eight years since Mary's death. Blood, anger, and regret, the price demanded for revenge. His exhaustive search for the monster who took her from him came at a great personal cost.

His boys were growing up without him. He lost time with them he'd never get back. Missed out on doing things with them that other fathers did with their sons. Hell, he acted more like a drill sergeant than their father.

He kept telling himself he had no choice. The boys had to learn after all. They were soldiers fighting a war against things most people didn't even know existed.

He hunted, and would damn sure teach the boys how to hunt, too. Together, they'd find whatever it was that killed Mary and send the damn thing back to Hell. _And we'll kill every monster and ghoul and ghost and demon we come across along the way._

His boys wouldn't grow up to experience the things he did. They wouldn't lose what he had. Both of them had started to act out recently. John figured it was as much from growing pains as it was because of the time they spent apart.

Of the two, it was Sammy who changed the most. The last few months had been far from easy for either of them. Transferred into and out of multiple schools, dumped into different motels, and denied the opportunity to just be a normal kid turned his once sunny dispositioned boy into a sullen, resentful, and hostile pain in his ass. _Mary'd tell me it's what I deserve._

And she'd be right.

Dean did his best to calm things down when he and Sammy butted heads. _He shouldn't have to, though_, John thought as he quietly entered the room of the motel they were staying in that week. _It's not up to an almost thirteen-year-old to keep the peace between his old man and brother._

Guilt mixed with the anger and other shit burning in his belly. He regretted a great many of the things he forced Dean to do. He hated that he drilled into his boy's head that he shoot first, ask questions later. That was the way of this world they found themselves. _You either kill or you end up being killed._

His oldest son was a killer now because of him. It wasn't like Dean had any other choice. Andersen said he was hunting Sammy for what he claimed his boy had done to Silas. John denied it, of course. There was no way, he told him, that Sammy could have torn Silas to pieces.

Not that Andersen believed him.

Before John had a chance to reach for his revolver, Dean stepped out from behind him and shot Andersen. One shot. Through the chest. Like he taught him. John couldn't be more proud. Sure, murder was wrong in the eyes of the law and the religious fanatics. It wasn't something he condoned on a personal level. They were fighting a war, though. _And this is how soldiers survive._

John heaved a quiet sigh as he shut the door behind him. This had been a rough year. _We made it, though_, he thought as he set his bag on the table and shrugged off his jacket. _But only by the skin of our teeth._

Whatever was after them was going to keep hunting them. It was the one thing Cain made clear during their conversation in that dingy diner.

"_They won't quit until you're dead." A light passed through Cain's eyes. Sympathy or regret? John couldn't tell. "You stand between them and what they want."_

And what they wanted was his youngest son.

Why?

Silas and the woman who called herself Ms. Lyle claimed it was because Sammy was special. How was he special? Cain suggested it had something to do with the man who killed Mary. John didn't know if that was true but he started reading up on demonology anyway.

Aydan also provided him with a reason for why Ms. Lyle wanted Sammy.

"_I think she was really Lilith," she whispered as she hugged him tightly. "First wife of Adam and some say the first demon."_

His research into Lilith caused his blood to run cold. In the demonic hierarchy, she, as the original demon, ranked highest of all. Only Lucifer outranked her. If Aydan was right, and he didn't doubt her, then he was beyond screwed. How was he to fight a demon with that much power? Guns and knives would be useless against her. _And I can't call down archangels like Aydan._

That brought him back to the question haunting him for these eight years: Would the boys be better off without him? No, he decided as he took a seat in one of the chairs. _I'm their father. They belong with me._

And with him they'd remain.

* * *

**A/N: **Hello, all, and goodbye! I think this is a good place to end things. My goal was always to show how and why John became the man he did and I think I have done that by tying some critical elements to what we know happens in the show. I hope you've enjoyed this journey as much as I have. If you have, please leave a comment below, and favorite this story.

I want to thank again Sharzdah, scootersmom, umbrella0326, Kathy, Rookblonkorules, Natasha Walker, PriWinchester, TolkienScholar, and ReadingBlueWolf for all their support!

Take care, everyone!


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